The Fifth Season (22 page)

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Authors: Kerry B. Collison

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: The Fifth Season
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‘They're ready,' he said, and those gathered broke into a thunderous cheer.

* * * *

Jakarta
Mary Jo & Hamish

Mary Jo had been alerted to the city's deteriorating situation when, just before three in the morning, she had taken a call from New York. Cursing her office for not having allocated sufficient funding for her own car and driver, she found herself at the mercy of the unreliable taxi service once again. Unable to coax any to her villa, she had finally resorted to waking Hamish McLoughlin at his hotel and asked his assistance. He had accompanied the nervous hotel driver to the outer suburb and waited while Mary Jo and Anne loaded additional gear to avoid having to return. They then left for the hotel with Hamish, driving past truckloads of soldiers who poured into the burning city to reinforce the Jakarta garrison.

The two women waited for daylight, by which time they were able to persuade one of the hotel staff to rent them his Honda, Mary Jo not caring how ridiculous she may have appeared as the smaller Anne steered the motorcycle away from the luxurious hotel. They followed the billowing clouds of dark, ominous smoke, visiting the sites of more than a dozen buildings guttered by fire, twice falling from their motorbike as rioting mobs and looters filled the streets.

By late-afternoon, exhausted and emotionally drained, Mary Jo and Anne dragged their tired limbs back the three kilometers from their last site to where the military had barricaded the road, forcing them to cover the remaining distance on foot. They returned to the hotel where Mary Jo paid the unhappy Honda's owner an additional fifty dollars for the minor damage incurred as a result of their falls. She deposited Anne in the coffee shop and, ignoring stares from the other guests, made her way up to the Regency levels, and to Hamish's suite. He poured her a vodka, and they sat together, Mary Jo finding the opportunity somewhat therapeutic as she described the horrors still fresh in her mind.

‘My god, Hamish,' her voice trembled, ‘there were more than two hundred bodies inside.'

Hamish took her hands and held them comfortingly. ‘Who were they?' he asked, obviously shocked by the story Mary Jo had just related.

‘Anne asked the police present, but no one seemed to have any idea at all. She said they claimed that these were the bodies of looters caught inside the inferno,' her tired voice explained, ‘but there are suggestions that these might have been itinerants caught in the complex, unaware that the building had caught fire.'

Hamish looked at her sympathetically, unable to visualize the charred corpses. He could see that she was exhausted. Her slacks were torn, and there was an ugly, reddish abrasion to her right elbow where she had apparently hit the pavement as a result of their spill.

‘Do you want to stay here tonight?' he offered, ‘you could have a distracting massage and sauna if you feel up to it.' Mary Jo shook her head.

‘Then you should have that seen to, Jo,' he said, pointing to the damaged skin.

‘I have to get back to download and file all of this,' she said, indicating the large leather case containing her equipment. ‘Why don't we meet up later, after I've finished?' She rose wearily, managing a smile. ‘If I can convince the hotel taxi service to take me home and wait, I'll come back in. Okay?' the tiredness in her voice evident.

‘Are you certain you're up to it? he asked, walking her to the door

‘Sure,' she replied, kissing him lightly. ‘Where will you be?'

‘If it's after seven, I'll wait for you in O'Reiley's. Okay?'

‘Great,' she said, waving as she headed for the lifts.

Hamish waited until she disappeared then returned to his papers, read through these one more time, then phoned downstairs to the hotel's secretarial service. He arranged for the documents to be picked up and typed, then Hamish changed and spent an hour working out in the gymnasium before hitting the sauna. By the time he had returned to his room, the report had been completed, and placed on the desk alongside his electronic notepad.

Hamish then showered and dressed, poured a generous serving of whisky and settled down to examine the document before him. Thirty minutes later, satisfied with his evaluation of the situation, Hamish McLoughlin took the report back down to the business centre and waited until it had been faxed to his associates in Switzerland.

He watched as the machine hummed, sending the detailed report halfway across the world, wondering how its contents would be received. He glanced up at the row of clocks, each set to a different international time zone, noting that his clients in Geneva would already have arrived at their bleak banker's offices. He retrieved the document and slipped this into an envelope, instructing the secretary to have it sent to his room, then headed directly for the bar to wait for Mary Jo.

* * * *

While Hamish McLoughlin sat alone, sipping his second whisky, the contents of his financial analyses were being carefully examined, on the other side of the globe. There, having completed his evaluation of Hamish's submission, a concerned financier used his private phone to dial an off-direc-tory number in Tel Aviv. He relayed a brief synopsis of the report, along with his own recommendations, replaced the receiver, and waited. In less than an hour he received instructions. The merchant banker then moved swiftly, his organization successfully disposing of more than two hundred million pounds in stock associated with the Indonesian President's family holdings, citing liquidity concerns as the reason for the heavily discounted transactions.

As a consequence of rumors sparked by this sell-off, a further fifty percent was shaved off the value of the Indonesian currency, as word spread quickly through international financial centers from London to New York and back across the Atlantic, suggesting that the Indonesian President's family holdings were on the brink of collapse. The following morning the World Bank would freeze a pre-arranged bridging loan of one billion dollars and the IMF representative, Harold Goldstein, would inform the Indonesian Government that due to the country's continuing political instability the International Monetary Fund would be unable to consider further financial assistance at that time.

In Tel Aviv there would be smiles all around as those present at the Mossad briefing agreed that Indonesia's attempts to move the world's largest Moslem population towards achieving its own nuclear defence capability would now be delayed, hopefully indefinitely. In Washington, the American President would nod solemnly when his meeting with the nation's senior military and security advisers concluded, the question of replacing the Indonesian leadership, now the remaining issue.

In China, the Chairman would brood over the information at hand, then decide to delay devaluing the nation's currency until at least after the American President's visit. Events in Indonesia would in no way derail his long-term strategies to acquire control over the archipelago's rich and extensive natural resources. His main concerns were how long China could protect itself from the Soros-styled raiders, the Chairman conscious that the special territory of Hong Kong certain to be targeted.

But in Islamabad, where Chinese-assisted Pakistani scientists worked through yet another long and demanding night, the mood there would be quite different to that of its neighbors. Instead, the realization that their most secret project neared completion and would be tested within days would only heighten their general feeling of euphoria.

Chapter Ten
Washington
The President listened, his Chief of Staff 's lament still fresh in his mind.
‘The media is hunting hard on this one, and we'll have to give them something soon. General Praboyo's already spoken to the Press in Jakarta, and we should expect some flak from that interview,' Dean Scott had advised, minutes before leaving the Oval Office meeting to continue in his absence.

‘How much information do we have regarding these so called death squads?' the President asked, directing this to the Defense Intelligence Agency Director.

‘Firstly, Mr. President, it should be made quite clear that Praboyo is no longer the
Kopassus
Special Forces commander. Sure, they will continue to point the finger at him, but this is because of his relationship to Suhapto.'

The Director glanced at the others. Peterson, the CIA Director, and Admiral Brown had entered together, their heated verbal exchange prior to the meeting indicative of the uneasy relationship these two powerful men shared. ‘As for reports suggesting that there are death squads running around kidnapping students and political activists, well,' he raised his hands as if in surrender, ‘the DIA Attache in Jakarta has nothing which would suggest that these have any substance.' He appeared calm but inside his stomach burned, the beginnings of an ulcer.

‘Are we still training these units?'

‘No sir, we're not,' the Director replied. ‘We discontinued all operational contact with
Kopassus
when the current crisis hit.' The President nodded, pleased with this information. His Chief of Staff could emphasize this point during the next media conference. The President was buoyed that his public approval ratings had recovered, and wished that the Indonesian situation would just disappear, particularly since media attention had begun to focus on his imminent China visit.

The Washington Post had reported that U.S.-trained military units in Indonesia had been involved in kidnapping and torturing students and dissidents, and that these incidents had commenced well before General Praboyo was promoted from the Special Forces to become the
Kostrad
Strategic Forces commander. The Post had been relentless in its investigations, revealing that reliable Indonesian sources claimed ties between the United States Defense Intelligence Agency, General Praboyo and his former command,
Kopassus
, were still strong.

The possible involvement of Praboyo's former troops was, potentially, of considerable embarrassment for the Pentagon, as the U.S. military had maintained strong ties with the
Kopassus
units, having participated in training exercises involving America's highly skilled guerrilla teams. General Praboyo, it was revealed, had attended both Advanced and Army Special Forces Training in the United States. Over the past seven years, U.S.

Special Forces troops had conducted more than thirty counter- terrorism, sniper skills and rapid infiltration training exercises with
Kopassus
.

The President was cognizant of his country's ongoing need to maintain its military sales to countries such as Indonesia. His Administration was still keen to finalize the sale of nine F-16's to Jakarta but the current political climate prevented further dialogue. That, and the fact that the country was most unlikely now to be in a position to pay for such purchases. In order to satisfy the clamorous human rights' lobbyists, he had sanctioned a ban against the sale of small arms, helicopter armaments and armored personnel carriers several years before, but this decision had been merely to distract attention from his military's more disguised activities there. Now, these covert activities had come to haunt him and the President knew he had no choice but to distance himself, and his Administration, from those involved.

‘Does the CIA still support General Praboyo? he asked, catching Peterson by surprise. Admiral Brown turned to stare directly at the Director, anticipating his response.

‘Yes, we do,' Peterson answered.

‘Why?' his Chief asked, annoyance in his voice.

‘Because we believe that he is the only one capable of taking Suhapto's place. Yes, we agree that General Winarko appears spotless and obviously pro-American. But that won't automatically give him the Presidency. It's far more complicated than that.'

‘Mr. President, we've been over this all before,' Admiral Brown interrupted, shooting a warning look at Peterson, but the President raised his hand; he wished to hear the Director finish.

‘What about the Vice President, what's his name … Hababli?'

‘For anyone to succeed President Suhapto, he would need to have
ABRI,
the Indonesian military on side. L.B. Hababli does not have such support, and international monetary circles have clearly indicated their positions in respect to his recent appointment. He suffers from megalo-mania, everything he touches turns to shit. An Indonesia under Hababli could only end with another coup. Having him at the nation's helm would be unthinkable. On the other hand, we acknowledge that Praboyo does have some problems as well. Petty rivalries and jealousies in relation to his family ties to the Presidency have prevented him acquiring the necessary
ABRI
backing. But, there again Winarko has a similar problem. He has not placed his stamp on the Armed Forces as yet, having only held the Chief of Staff 's position for less than three months. Also, he is still viewed by some as being far too close to Suhapto.

Our intelligence confirms that there are serious rumblings with the Indonesian forces; quite frankly, there is every likelihood of a major split occurring, and not just between the Praboyo-Winarko camps. There are other pretenders waiting in the wings, any one of which are capable of challenging Winarko. But it is our position that they would not contest Praboyo's anointment as President, providing his father-in-law supports the move.'

The Director turned to the Admiral. ‘We should not lose sight of the fact that Praboyo has always been committed to maintaining a close relationship with our forces. Concerns about his father-in-law's push for a Moslem state would not be an issue, once he takes control. Of this we're reasonably confident. Also, there is the question of the Suhapto financial empire. The country could not recover if the First Family's assets, along with its substantial Chinese associated interests, were not to be repatriated.

It is most unlikely that President Suhapto's children would ever consider bringing back their billions should one of their number not still maintain control over the Presidency.'

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